This is, Balash thinks, exactly as I had warned Dashmar long ago.

Perhaps fifteen survived the beast's onslaught, led by the huu-mans. Two more would no doubt die from their wounds. Still, he thinks, the Daini lives, and the spear is with her. Further, a Shazaar had discovered an almost entirely unharmed clutch of eggs. With luck, the remaining Naga could flee the forest, avoiding pursuit simply by letting the Dark One believe them dead.

The sound of two horses sever his thoughts, bringing him to full awareness. Narrowing his eyes and suppressing the urge to rattle his tail, Balash watched, drawing an already blackening jade arrow.

From the mists step two men, not bent and meek like the peasants. Men of pride.

"Huu-mans," Balash murmurs. "Why does it always have to be huu-mans?"

The second is a man of coarse robes and a porcelain mask. He stands slightly behind and below the other.

"Is this enough material for you? Our ally said it should serve."

"It will, Yori, if I can find them." Balash hisses. The first man, he thought he saw poorly. He knows better now. A circlet of purest porcelain worn on the brow of an unseen man, and beneath his headless neck a similar set of armor bearing the mons of the fallen Moto and Fu Leng's personal mark.

The Porcelain Champion.

Moto Tsume.

Daini, Balash thinks, what have you brought upon us?

"I will begin the incantations at once, Tsume-sama, but it will take time."

"That is without consequence. This will take longer. There can be no survivors of this battle, Naga or otherwise."

Tsume's invisible eyes burn with sickly yellow flame, and his voice carries torment into the bloodied wind. Balash hesitates only a moment before looking for the others.

And, all around him, the dead begin to rise, their foreheads marked with the same flame of Tsume's eyes. Bright Eye, Balash thinks. And as he watches the thick ooze that was Iru congeals once more, he thinks it again...

Kaagiko is dimly aware that she should wake up. Her lips taste of blood, and she has relived this dream a thousand times too often. The crystal room, the horrible, faceless thing in it. The shard of whiteness cutting into where the face should be, and lifting up the delicate skin. She dreams it every night, and every time she wonders why she dreams it from the wrong set of eyes.

Then the crystal chokes on its light, bleeding black and shadow. And the whispering begins. She almost intelectually wonders if it had always been there, or if it was a new component.

Daughter? Yes. Lost one. Yes. Return to us, mother, sister, daughter. We miss you so badly.

She looks, in turn, at each face around her. She cannot recall their names, only that this one is a spy, that that one is a geisha. They ape other faces, crudely, but she does not see those forms. She reconizes the castle, one she lived in long, long ago, Shiyo Soshi. Soshi. The word dwells on her mind before the things close in.

"My face is my own, my face is my own, my face is my own, my face is my own."

This face, mother?

The loose tatter of flesh falls limply into her hands, and she screams into consciousness.

Yakamo. Tadaka. Toturi. Hoturi. Kamoko.

Every night, he cursed their names. Somehow, they and Shinsei had cheated him. Had he not planned his victory over lifetimes? Had he not earned peace on his throne?

Seven more shall come.

A thousand years less one, and not a single moment of peace in his heart, his mind, or his Empire.

The Empress, of course, does not sit to his left. No one has seen her, though many have heard her voice. He notes, bitterly, that it has been four hundred years since they were man and wife. Now, she is his underhand, nothing more.

Likewise, the space to his right is empty. Tsume has heard of a gathering near Shinomen, the last pure land, and deals with the stragglers. His champion, not even half the butcher as the oni who came before. Still, Tsume's troubles are not his, and Fu Leng knows the Thunders must be found before they can be united. His wife and his champion gone, performing his will and he remains alone in his worry. Which means...

Which means.

Damn her. She's done it again.

"Kachiko." The word is quiet, a bare breath. Still, the court shivers. The inbred, pathetic remnants of the Otomo, the Seppun, and the Miya part for her. His magic leaves her her beauty as the Agasha potions never did. Despite the indignities he has forced upon her, she still walks as proudly as that damnable day nearly a thousand years hence. She learned how to overcome her blindness long since.

"My lord." The bow is not a kneel.

"My Champion is gone away on an errand of more time than consequence. This is your doing."

"It is."

"My Empress is speaking her plots with her lieutenant. This is your doing."

"It is."

"This, in a time where I am prophesied to fight to retain my station. This is your plan."

"It is."

His hand bridges the distance between them in moments, grasping her by the hair, pulling her forward. Her kimono drops, leaving her nude before the lustful, idiotic court. So much for your pride, he thinks.

"I will not grant you release over this, little Scorpion. My anger is not so great that it blinds me to your desire. I know you, Kachiko. Too many are loyal to you and not to me."

"That is so, my lord." A smile. Damn her.

"Use them well, and I will grant you the true death you crave."

The gasp is slight, but there. "M-my lord?" A slight stutter in her voice. Is it real, or another of her infinite feints? "Take the scrolls and hide them, that they may not be used against me again.

"And then find the new Thunders, and crush them. Do these things for me, and you shall have peace. Fail, and you will be Tsume's bride."

She blinks, momentarily hiding the scars of her eyes. "Yes, my lord." The room murmurs quietly as the woman leaves.

Little brother. Was it so hard in your day, as well?

Agasha Dorai, who, under the tutelage of the Tadaka in his dreams, begins weaving the very corrupt maho that threatened to destroy his clan long, long ago.

Kisada, lost in a crisis of faith and honor. Twice before him, the Thunders failed. Can he succeed where the very son of Hida and, later, Yakamo failed?

Yasuki Sarosa, whose desire to overthrow the Dark Lord is so great that he makes bargains with still darker forces.

Kitsuki Kaagiko, both empowered and embittered by her encounter with the lost spirits of the Soshi.

The Daini Ashaqar, who returned to her people only to see them die horribly for her effort. The last of a dying people, her desire to restore them may eclipse even her destiny as the Dragon Thunder...

Completing the Seven are two new samurai.

Matsu Keiko, a ronin in a land where every Lion must make the choice to serve the Empire or the Emperor, as they did so long ago. Already she has had contact with an enemy the others have faced before...